They entered a good-sized office on a prominent street, and Dodger inquired for Mr. Tucker.
A small man of about forty, keen-eyed and alert, eyed him attentively.
“I am Mr. Tucker,” he said.
“I saw your advertisement for an assistant, Mr. Tucker,” said Dodger, modestly; “have you filled the place?”
“Let me see,” said Tucker, reflectively, “you are the ninth young man who has applied—but the place is still open.”
“Then I am afraid you won’t want me, as you have rejected so many.”
“I don’t know. How long have you been in the city?”
“I only just arrived.”
“Where from?”
“From New York.”